Baruch and Balthamos
by MaiaMadness
Summary: This is the story of the love between the angel Balthamos and the man, later angel, Baruch. 'You, watched by angels, sworn to Yahweh, lousy excuse! You dare!
1. An Evil Thought

Author's Note: For lack of a better title, I guess... Maybe I'll change it later. This is the story of the Angel Balthamos and the man Baruch (who later became an angel as well). It tells of how they met, how they became lovers and... Well, just keep reading. It will get better. If you have any comments, suggestions or anything else, please review. If you have any questions, review and leave your e-mail, and I will get back to you.

EDIT: This chapter has been slightly revised. No change storywise, though.

MaiaMadness

* * *

Chapter One

_An Evil Thought_

The day was grey and wet. It had been the first rainfall for weeks and the dry earth underneath had turned to mud. Balthamos watched the world. The way that he knew he must. It was his nature. He was a watcher, one of the lower class angels. He had been assigned this little part of this little world to watch. It was a small village, with kind little people, though lately he had sensed a disturbance among them. Someone here carried evil thoughts.

The dark, dusk-like quality of the day was not an advantage to Balthamos. Had it been sunny he would have been completely invisible, but in this light he would be seen quite clearly if he circled down to watch closer. But then the sun broke through the clouds and Balthamos took his chance to fly down to the village. Once there, he used some of his power to change into a little bird and fly to one of the straw-covered rooftops. He knew this rooftop well, for he had spent many a hot day up there watching the one who lived in this hut, a young man of 19 years by the name of Baruch.

Baruch was one of those kind people. He took care of everyone in the village, it seemed, for the smallest child to the eldest man. Baruch was a great warrior, yet he despised killing. He only ever did it to keep safe the ones he loved. But Balthamos often watched Baruch for the simple reason that he was so beautiful. He had dark hair cut short and green, blazing eyes filled with passion and love for every living thing. Around him glowed an aura of the same feelings, and Balthamos wished he could get a little bit closer to that aura and feel its heat. Just a little.

So he watched Baruch, every day. When he hunted in the forest, and when he ate during the feasts at night. When he woke up in the morning and when he went to sleep at night.

Baruch did not have any wives, the way many other villagers did. He lived alone in his hut. No wives, no children, no parents either. Yet he was never without company, for all the villagers wished to be near him, to shine in his light. If Balthamos hadn't been one himself, he would have thought Baruch was an angel. But alas, he was not. He was mortal. And soon he would disappear from this world. In the blink of an eye, he would be gone, and Balthamos would have lost his love forever.

Once more, Balthamos felt the presence of evil thoughts. He looked around him, but so many people were crowded here, at the centre of the village, where a great bonfire was kept alive day and night. Fire was light. Light was good. Light was safe. Balthamos looked at the two men stoking the fire, the women cooking food and making pottery, the children playing games, the old men chatting quietly. And the huts around were also full of life. It was impossible to tell who was thinking the thoughts.

Suddenly he felt another presence. It was the presence of that aura. He turned his little bird head and saw Baruch exit the forest, carrying four large rabbits over his shoulder. Other men came behind him, carrying other prey. All had bows and arrows and spears on their backs. They were far away, but Balthamos could tell Baruch apart from the others, for he shone like the sun. When the villagers saw the hunters coming, the evil thought was drowned out by the joy of the villagers, and several children ran to greet them. But before that, the thought had been empowered, and Balthamos had felt sickened by a lash of hatred. Hatred towards the beautiful Baruch.

* * *

Baruch awoke suddenly. He felt a presence in his home. But he could see nothing when he sat up. The hut was dark, but he was a hunter with keen eyesight, and yet he could not see the presence he felt so strongly. But in a room full of shadows it is hard to tell one shadow from another.

Movement. Baruch sat up straight and stared into the shadows. He crawled out from under his furs, out onto the dirt floor and crept over to the fire-circle in the middle of the hut. It was still glowing faintly, and as he blew on it, the smoke swirled around a shadow that was not a human shadow. A shadow standing up in the middle of the air. Baruch instinctively reached for the knife lying next to the fire circle.

"Don't be afraid," whispered the shadow. "I won't harm you."

Baruch lowered the knife. He blew at the fire once more, and again the smoke made the shape more visible.

"What are you?" he asked, realising that asking "who" would be pointless.

"I am a watcher," replied the shadow. "I am the sort of creature that you call angels."

"My father saw an angel once," said Baruch. "He said it glowed white and shining, like the sun. You are no angel."

"Angels come in different shapes and forms, Baruch," said the shadow.

"How do you know me by name?" asked Baruch suspiciously.

"Because I am an angel. A watcher. I have watched you and your village for several weeks. My name is Balthamos."

"Why are you watching me?"

"I am watching your village," Balthamos corrected. "Watching you is just a side effect of that."

"If that is true, then why are you in my house in the middle of the night?" asked Baruch. "Why are you not above watching the entire village?"

"Because I came to warn you," said Balthamos. "You are the best hunter and the greatest warrior of this village, are you not? There is someone among you, Baruch, who harbours evil thoughts. Someone who wishes to destroy you. I am not yet certain who it is, but he has ill will towards you. I am guarding you."

Baruch sat still next to the fire circle for a while, looking at the shadow in the dark. He blew another cloud of smoke towards him and watched his features grow a bit clearer. Well, he had not tried to hurt him yet…

As if reading his mind, Balthamos said, "Go to sleep. I will wake you if danger comes. I will be here watching." Baruch nodded, and crawled back underneath the furs on the bed of hay. After a while he fell asleep.


	2. Watched by Angels

Author's Note: So, welcome to chapter two. Not really much to say about it; I hope you will enjoy it. Some more interesting information now. Note, if you did not know already, that Yahweh is a name for God, which I chose to use in this story. I won't be fangirling for another few chapters, methinks.

MaiaMadness

* * *

Chapter Two

_Watched by Angels_

Baruch woke up the next morning to find bright sunlight trickling in through the smoke hole in the ceiling and the window hole on the wall. The hut was flooded with it. Baruch sat upright, and looked around in the room. He could not see the shadow of Balthamos anywhere.

"Hello?" he whispered. "Watcher?"

"I am here," replied the voice of the angel. "You cannot see me in this light. But I told you, my name is Balthamos. Your human brain isn't too small to remember that, is it?" His tone was sarcastic.

"I remember," said Baruch, lightly indignant. "Please do not use that tone as a means of feeling superior."

Balthamos was quiet for a moment. "I apologise," he said. "I shall try harder."

"And I shall try harder to call you Balthamos," said Baruch. Balthamos shivered upon hearing his name uttered from those lips, and he longed to touch them. So much so that it hurt seeing that bright figure before him. There was something special about such a through and through good human being. He was more so than most angels.

"Put on your clothes, Baruch," said Balthamos. Even though Baruch could not see where he was looking, Balthamos turned around respectfully when he stood up. Humans seemed embarrassed over their appearance, something Balthamos found strange, for God had shaped them that way because it was the most beautiful form he could imagine.

Balthamos had visited many worlds. In some worlds people had dæmons, companions. A part of their soul which was apart from their body. In this world they did not. Baruch was alone, with his dæmon on the inside. Balthamos preferred it that way, or else he feared that the dæmon would have perceived his desire.

"So who is this person with evil thoughts?" asked Baruch. Balthamos had nearly forgotten about that.

"I do not know," he said. "That is why I am watching you. So that I will be able to tell you when I find out."

"How will you know?" said Baruch, pulling on his rough linen shirt.

"My perception of feelings is vague," Balthamos answered. "I can sense a thought or feeling in someone, but if there are many people present I cannot see who the thought or feeling belongs to."

"But now, with only you and I, you can read my thoughts?" Baruch turned around to try and see the angel. He thought he saw a shimmer in the air and focused on that.

"I could, but I choose not to," said Balthamos, who was standing a foot to the right of the spot where Baruch was looking.

"And what if I were the one harbouring the evil thought?" asked Baruch, giving up his looking and tying on his leather belt.

"You are not," replied Balthamos simply. "I sense the thought when you are not present, and it would be utterly illogical for you to harbour evil thoughts towards yourself." He chose not to mention the aura of goodness visible around the young man at all times.

Baruch said nothing, but tied his knife to his belt and exited the hut.

Baruch always got up early, and only a few people had begun to stir in the village square. The men who had been on watch during the night were going back into their huts where they would sleep until midday. Balthamos followed Baruch down to the stream, where he filled water into a pouch of animal skin and then walked back to the village. Balthamos remained quiet, but he knew that Baruch knew he was there.

As they reached the village again, Balthamos suddenly felt the evil thought overwhelmingly strongly. He felt as though something clenched at his inner being and crushed it briefly. But then the feeling ebbed out, and Balthamos looked around fearfully. There were more people about now, but he could not imagine which one of these people had thought it. Women were walking down to the stream to get water for cooking. Men were talking loudly, children were playing and two young girls in the corner were chatting in hushed voices, glancing at the fierce young hunters adoringly and giggling. He pulled up close to Baruch and whispered in his ear, "I felt it again. Do not answer now, but think: Who here do you not trust?"

* * *

Darkness was falling. As always at this time the great fire was blazing, and people took sticks over to it and brought flames for smaller fires so they could cook their food. Rabbits were frying on spits over the flames. Baruch circulated every night; eating with one family or another, always welcome anywhere. This night he had been invited to share the food of the family of one of the village Elders. He was a large, round man around 50, and considered an old man. He had seven children with his two wives. Six of them were married, five of them had children. His two married daughters were not present; they were with their own families. The youngest daughter was not yet married and ate with her family. She was fourteen years old, and her name was Merriam.

Balthamos had turned himself into a little insect, and sat quietly on Baruch's shoulder. They were all drinking wine made from berry juices while they waited for the meat to cook. They sat in a circle on the ground on animal skins, and as the last ray of sun disappeared behind the mountains to the East the Elder put down his cup and blessed the food, asking Yahweh in the sky to protect them from the evil of the night. Baruch bowed his head as the Elder spoke and when he had finished, one of his wives took the rabbit off the spit and Baruch received the honour of cutting the meat, since he was the one who had caught the rabbit and presented it to the Elder earlier that day. He cut some slices of the juicy red meat and thanked Yahweh for giving them the rabbit's life so they could live themselves.

Then they ate. Conversation was light. The Elder's youngest son, who was also a hunter, discussed the day's hunt with Baruch, complimenting him on his three marvellous kills. Baruch nodded graciously. The women were silent, speaking only to each other in hushed voices. Balthamos noticed how Merriam glanced at Baruch from time to time, taking in his muscular arms and beautiful face, and then blushing before she looked away again. He was not alone. The Elder too had noticed this.

"Baruch," he said. "You have no wives, do you?"

Baruch seemed taken aback by the question. Balthamos felt a rush of jealousy. "No, Elder," said Baruch, coming to his senses. "I do not."

"Hm," said the Elder in his deep voice. "My Merriam is a strong young woman," he continued. "She could bear sons. She is pure."

Merriam blushed bright red. Balthamos felt Baruch's indecision. The Elder said nothing more, but looked intently at Baruch, studying his expression. His sons also looked at him. Baruch did not wish to offend them by declining, he knew it could cause a conflict. But he did not want to marry Merriam either. She was a beautiful young girl, and her father spoke the truth; she was strong and pure. Yet he felt no interest in her.

"Decline!" Balthamos whispered urgently. "You must not accept. Please!"

Baruch hesitated only a moment more. "I am sorry, Elder, but I cannot accept your kind offer," he said, lowering his eyes to the ground.

"Hm," said the Elder again. "Why?" he demanded.

"I am… watched by angels," said Baruch. The women gasped, and the Elder frowned. "I have sworn to wed no woman," Baruch continued, his eyes once again meeting the Elder's. "I am sorry. This is why I have no wives. I am sworn to Yahweh."


	3. Epheriel

Author's Note: I apologise for the wait. I had the chapter more or less finished several days ago, but I felt weary of publishing it as I felt I should have my historical facts in order before venturing any further into this religious mix. Luckily, my mother is a walking encyclopedia of religious and historical knowledge, and I now have all the facts I need. I realise that referring to God as Yahweh 4000 years ago was a mistake, as this name was spoken to Moses, who wasn't born for some 700 odd years. But no matter. I can't be bothered to fix it. All the same, enjoy this chapter.

MaiaMadness

* * *

Chapter Three

_Epheriel_

"Do you know what blasphemy you spoke?" said Balthamos angrily. He was back in his own form, and they were in Baruch's hut. "You lied in the Lord's name! You are not sworn to Yahweh! If he hears… Oh, if they had heard… Do you know what would have happened to me?"

"Would you have preferred me to wed Merriam?" asked Baruch, spinning around to face the angel. "You told me to decline. I had to say something! I did what I must, Balthamos. And it worked, did it not? No fights, no arguments, and no one was hurt. And I am watched by angels."

"You are watched by _one_ angel."

Baruch fell silent. He turned his back on the angel and took a deep breath. "But you are here," he said, turning to face the angel once more. "You will not leave me, will you Balthamos?"

"No, Baruch," replied the watcher with a sigh. "I will not. But I cannot protect you. I can only watch. I am much weaker than any human being. My physical form is of softer material than yours."

"But you can take other forms," said Baruch, turning back to face him again. "Could you take the form of a man?"

"Perhaps," said Balthamos. "I have never tried. But the fact that I can shift my form at will is proof of how inconstant my physical form is."

"Yes…" said Baruch. They both fell silent. "I am sorry, Balthamos," he said. "So sorry. I do not wish to cause you any trouble."

He began to undress to go to sleep. Balthamos turned around the way he had that morning, not wishing to intrude on his privacy.

"I thought about what you asked," said Baruch. "Who could hold a grudge against me." He sat down on his bedding and carefully began to sharpen his knife with a stone. Balthamos looked at him again. "I could think of no particular person," Baruch continued. "These are good people. I know each of them. Last year, when the Babylonians sought to overtake our village, I faced them. I spoke to their leader and they left, deciding that our village was nothing special. The people believe that I fought them single-handed. They would not listen when I told them that I did not. They thought I was just being modest. So I let them think what they want. This is why I am considered a great warrior, but I am not. I am just a hunter. I bring home food. I cannot understand why one of them should dislike me."

"The minds of men are curious things," said Balthamos, sitting down next to him, and Baruch felt something like a chilly breeze against his shoulder. "Men are jealous beings. It could be that your strength and kindness is what would make someone hate you."

"I do not understand my people," said Baruch, sheathing his sharpened knife. "I do not understand men or women." They were both silent for a few moments. Then Baruch spoke again. "Why did you wish me to decline the Elder's offer?" he inquired.

If Balthamos was human he would have blushed. But he quickly composed himself and replied, "A woman would make it harder for me to watch you and warn you of danger. I would not be able to speak to you while she was present. And a woman would mean pleasures of the flesh… It would be inconvenient."

Now Baruch blushed and turned away to conceal it. "I have no interest in such things," he mumbled. "Merriam does not intrigue me in the slightest."

Balthamos felt a certain pleasure in hearing this.

He stood up again. "You must sleep now, Baruch," he said. Baruch nodded and crept underneath the furs. Balthamos sat down underneath the window hole.

Somewhere half way through the night, Balthamos sensed a presence on the roof. It was not the evil thought. It was not a human presence at all. He recognised the presence, and presently he flew out of the window hole and up onto the roof. The fireguards were facing in another direction, sleepily. It was good that they could not see the being on the roof. Balthamos immediately knew him.

"Balthamos." The angel who met him embraced him gently.

"Epheriel!" Balthamos, although not very surprised, was pleased to see his old friend. Epheriel was a higher-class angel, the kind who looked as though he was illuminated by a light from elsewhere. The light that shone on Epheriel was silvery in colour, and his great wings were of the same nuance. Next to Epheriel, Balthamos looked even more grey and shadowlike, but he had never minded that. Epheriel was the only friend he had ever had. Friendships were not usual among angels.

"So this is your post, is it?" said Epheriel. "And in there sleeps the man you have taken upon yourself to watch." He pointed down through the smoke hole.

"So you know…" said Balthamos. "Do they know?"

"Of course they know!" said Epheriel. "They know everything. The Lord sees everything. You should know this, my brother."

Balthamos looked down. "Have you come to deal me my punishment, then?" he whispered.

"No," said Epheriel softly. "They wish you to continue what you are doing. There is something here which is not good. Our job as angels is to purge the world of evil. Do your job, Balthamos."

Epheriel dropped to the ground and looked in through the window hole at the sleeping form of Baruch. Balthamos followed.

"I can see why he attracts you," said Epheriel. "He glows."

"I know," said Balthamos. "He is so good it pains me to see. You or I could never be as good as he."

"You desire him." It was not a question, but a statement. Balthamos looked away again. It was true. If Epheriel could see it, so must any angel.

"Is it sin?" asked Balthamos in a hushed voice.

"Angels do not sin. That is a human matter." Epheriel turned to him, and embraced him again. "Do not worry, Balthamos," he said. "And Metatron said to send his regards!" Then he took to his wings and left Balthamos alone. He went back inside to watch his charge, who slept peacefully throughout the night.

Near dawn Balthamos was dozing himself (angels do not need sleep in the way humans do, but for an angel to nod off is not unheard of), when suddenly he felt it again. The thought. The evil thought. He stood abruptly and stared out of the window hole. He could see the two fireguards and a few night birds and bats, but no one else. But then he saw the shape coming out of the forest. The figure was hooded and ran over the grass towards the village. Balthamos could not see his face, and then he disappeared among the huts, and Balthamos could not see which one he went into.

Baruch stirred. "Is it morning?" he asked sleepily. He saw Balthamos' shadowy form by the window hole. "Is something the matter?"

Balthamos told him what he had seen.

"That cannot have been one of us," said Baruch. "I shall have to ask the Elders if any strangers have arrived whom I have not met."

"You are naïve," said Balthamos, a hint of annoyance in his voice.

"Rather naïve than cynical," replied Baruch. He stood up and got dressed, fastening the knife at his belt as usual. Then he picked up his water skin and walked down to the stream as the sun began to rise.


	4. Joseph's Defeat

**Author's Note:**

Wow, it's been ages, hasn't it... I've had so much to do, exams to sit, and other fanfics to write. I've been writing a fair share of Harry Potter stuff recently; feel free to check it out, I'm quite happy with some of it. Thanks to everyone who's stuck with me none the less. A review I recieved today reminded me to wrap up this chapter and give you want you want, so thanks for that, Maeve!Here it comes, all done and fixed up, chapter four, Joseph's Defeat!

MaiaMadness

* * *

Chapter Four

_Joseph's Defeat_

No, had the Elders said. No one new had showed up in the village. There was no one here whom Baruch had not met. So Baruch went to the fireguards and asked if any of them had seen someone go out in the middle of the night. But they had seen nothing, not even the angels conversing by Baruch's hut. Baruch was puzzled. No one went out into the forest at night. It was dangerous, and everyone knew this.

But then came the day's chores, and Baruch forgot his worries. Today was not a hunting day; they had caught a large animal the day before and today the men were to prepare the meat and carry water, and help the women prepare the night's feast for the entire village. These feasts and the preparation for them were the only times men and women were on equal terms, they way they were before they reached adolescence.

The men usually either hunted in the forest or worked in the fields. The women cooked and cleaned and picked berries and milked the goats and watched the children. Without the men to bring home the food there would be nothing for the women to cook, but without the women to cook the food, the men would not be able to hunt or plough. It was all perfectly balanced.

This feast was to celebrate the end of the draught. The rain had come earlier than expected, and the feast was delayed, but it was a tradition that must be upheld. They celebrated the life-giving rain, but asked the Lord Yahweh not to wash away their crops.

Baruch enjoyed watching the activities that always went on at the day of the feast. Men and women who had been friends as children came together and laughed and joked, and there was no taboo over it at all. Balthamos also saw this, and took some pleasure in feeling the loose, happy spirit among the sons and daughters of Adam and Eve. People rejoicing in the name of the Lord was the greatest happiness for Him.

Balthamos spent the day staying next to Baruch and watching out for him, but the evil thought was not present today. So he followed Baruch around, watching the people, curious. He was a watcher. His job was to read people's emotions and thoughts. Yet he could not begin to understand the way they worked. Each of these people had a story. Each of them had sorrows, worries, pains. But on a day like today all of these feelings went away and were replaced by contentment and happiness.

"Do you eat, Balthamos?" came the quiet question out of the corner of Baruch's mouth. "Can you consume food?"

"In small amounts," Balthamos replied in a whisper. "But I do not need it the way you do."

"Then you must taste the feast tonight," whispered Baruch. "It will be heavenly."

That evening, the entire village gathered in the square. Instead of sitting in small family groups, they all sat around the large fire. Soon a large group of children had gathered around Baruch, begging him to tell them stories.

"Tell us about when your father saw the angel!" said one, and Baruch smiled.

"Haven't you heard that many times before?" he asked, but the children would not give up. "Hush," said Baruch. "Let me instead tell you the story of a man, this time. A man named Enoch."

Balthamos, once again in the shape of a bug, had been nibbling on a piece of meat, but upon hearing this name, he stopped, and turned his attention to Baruch.

"My father told me this story, and his father before him," continued Baruch. "It is an old story. Older than any living man. Hundreds of years old. Enoch was the son of Jared, a rich man. When Enoch was a boy he would play hide and seek with his siblings, but none of them could ever find him. This was because Enoch had angels watching him always. When he wished to go unseen, the angels would make it so. When Enoch grew older he had many wives, and he was a wise man, who taught the people many things. He taught them the cycles of the moon and the ways of the world. But then, one day, when Enoch was an old man, he disappeared for good and nobody ever saw him again."

"What happened to him?" piped one of the children

"Nobody knows," said Baruch. "But they say that the angels took him with them and showed him the secrets of the world, and then the lord Yahweh took him to heaven and gave him powers beyond anybody's wildest dreams."

The children began to talk excitedly amongst themselves, and Balthamos took his chance to crawl up on Baruch's shoulder and whispered, "How did you learn these things? Who told you?"

"My father told me, like I said," whispered Baruch. But before Balthamos could pry further, he felt something through the happy crowd. It was not the evil thought, but a rather desperate feeling. Anger. Fear. And it was directed towards Baruch. Balthamos looked around, and saw Merriam and her youngest brother Joseph, Baruch's fellow hunter, whispering in a corner. The fear came from Merriam, and the anger from her brother.

"Baruch," whispered Balthamos more urgently still. "You may have to fight!"

"Baruch!" came a voice. "Stand! Face me!" Baruch turned his head to where the voice came from, and saw Joseph, two spears in his hands, with his sister tugging fearfully at his sleeve. He stood up, slowly. "Fight me, Baruch!"

Baruch looked at the man. No, he was hardly a man. A boy still. Small and fast, but not particularly strong. "May I ask as to how I have offended you, Joseph?" he asked kindly.

"You have offended my sister!" spat the other, rage clearly visible in his eyes. "You have offended her honour by not taking her for a bride when she was offered by our father. You have offended our entire family! To protect her honour, I want to fight you to the death!"

Balthamos tried to read Baruch, but something prevented it. Something would not allow him to see what the man thought. What his actions would be. But his expression was mild and kindly still.

"Joseph," he said. "Is this necessary, friend? I am not a violent man. I have no wish to fight." He saw Merriam whisper something in her brother's ear, but Joseph shook her off.

"Are you a coward, Baruch?" growled Joseph. "You, who fought off the Babylonians; can you not fight me?"

"Enough!" His father, the Elder, stood up. "My son, this is a feast to honour the Lord. You cannot fight this night. Baruch is an honourable man who has done nothing to deserve your challenge; there are other young men who can wed Merriam. Take back your challenge and return to our home!"

The square grew silent. Everyone was watching the scene now. The only sound to be heard was the crackling of the great fire.

"No!" cried Joseph. "I will have this fight, and I will have it now!"

"Then you are no son of mine," said his father and sat down again. Merriam threw herself to the ground and wept.

"Baruch!" said Joseph again. "Accept my challenge!" He threw one spear at him, which Baruch caught expertly.

"I will accept," said Baruch. "My condition is we go away from this place and do not interrupt the feast."

He grabbed a piece of wood from a stack by a wall, and lit it as a torch. Then he marched away, and Joseph followed. Some men, including two of Joseph's brothers, lit torches and followed after them to watch. Balthamos took his regular form and walked next to Baruch, playing his shadow.

"You will fight him?" he asked quietly.

"If that is what it takes to show him the error he is making, then yes," replied Baruch. "I won't kill him. He is only a boy."

They reached the end of the village and the meadow. Baruch set his torch in the ground, and the other men carrying torches followed suit. They placed the torches in a circle. Baruch and Joseph stepped inside. Balthamos stayed outside the circle, hoping he would not be seen. The other men there seemed too busy to notice a shadow in the air.

Joseph and Baruch raised their spears. Baruch stood tall and proud, his spear at his side, but ready to strike, should it be necessary. Joseph crouched, his spear in both hands. They stood that way for a moment, watching each other. Then Joseph lowered the tip of his spear and gave a savage cry as he lunged at Baruch. Baruch dodged the attack, and Joseph stumbled past him. He turned around and glared furiously at his opponent.

"You mock me?" he growled. "You, watched by angels, sworn to Yahweh, lousy excuse! You dare!"

He lunged again. This time, Baruch only evaded the attack by sidestepping it, and as Joseph came rushing past, he reached out, grabbed the spear and wringed kit from his hands. Joseph stared at him in surprise as he tossed the spear out of the circle. Then he walked calmly towards him. Joseph fell to his knees and stared at the ground. He had lost, and now he would pay. But Baruch threw his spear onto the ground before him.

"Go home, Joseph," he said quietly.

"You are leaving me to live with this shame?" said Joseph hoarsely, looking up at him.

Baruch did not answer his question. Instead he looked kindly down at the boy, and said, "Go to your father and reconcile. Tell your sister you did wrong. Your life is my gift to her."

Baruch picked up one of the torches. He stepped out of the circle and left Joseph on his knees. As he set off towards the village, one of Joseph's brothers rushed into the circle to help his brother to his feet. Balthamos followed Baruch away from that place.


End file.
